Bicentennial
by twotoed
Summary: The evil step mother plans, prepares, and makes mistakes.  She is also human, right?


Fine wrinkles about her eyes and mouth slowly disappeared as the woman traced them with her long fingers. Tilting her head about, she examined her reflection from as many angles as she could with a solitary mirror and maintaining good posture. Her embroidery heavy dress pooled around her with not a fold of place as she sat in the straight-backed wooden chair, directly in front the mirror hanging on a wall.

Curtains were tied back to either side of the mirror, which was the only object adorning the dark paneling of the wall it was hung upon. The other walls in the room had tapestries, portraits, or windows with carved sidings, but that particular wall was bereft of such illuminating touches. Light from the window across the room filtered in, setting the golden hair of the woman glittering brilliantly, and casting her fair face into shadow.

Selecting an ornamental clip from a tray sitting by the chair, she pinned up the majority of her hair, leaving a few ringlets to the sides of her face. She bypassed the makeup her ladies had left on the tray, as she always did, and picked up a pair of earrings. Earrings made as little difference as the makeup did, but jewelry was unfortunately had less to do with enhancing her beauty and more to do with status. She slipped them on and gave herself a small nod.

"Mirror mirror on the wall" she began blandly "who is the fairest of them all?" It was the question she had asked of it each morning for many years. Each morning the mirror answered that she was was the fairest. "Who?" she snapped at the mirror. It had never paused before.

"Linza" the mirror replied, and the woman's face paled.

"You lie." She hissed, standing.

"Linza is the fairest in the land" the mirror reiterated flatly. "She-" The woman dropped the curtains over the mirror cutting off its elaboration. Chest heaving, she clenched and unclenched her hands while pacing. After a few minutes she heaved a deep breath and closed the curtains over the windows as well.

"Kuhn" she said in level, clipped tones "did you hear that?"

Shadows gathered, thickening into a pillar, the top of which leaned over the woman's shoulder. "You are referring to the part about Linza my lady?" it whispered to her ear. The woman nodded, features rigid. "Then yes, I did."

"And?"

"It makes your plans more difficult. It is nearly time, is it not?"

The woman nodded again, a sharp gesture that made her hair swing. "She cannot stay."

"Not here, no." Kuhn murmured, and the woman wrinkled her nose delicately.

"She is young. Naive. We must remove her." She walked over to the door, and the shadowy pillar dissipated back to wherever it had come from.

Flinging the door open, the woman strode through into the adjoining room, where she conducted her business. The manservant standing at the tall double doors that led out into the rest of the castle straightened and tensed.

"You" the woman addressed him without breaking stride as she headed to her throne "bring me someone who is capable of traveling in the outdoors." She spun about and seated herself. "Quickly!" The servant hastened out, returning a few minutes later with a lightly bearded man wearing a leather jerkin. Pushing the man forward, the servant retreated back to his post by the door.

The man's eyes were wide as he stood before the woman, until he managed a jerky bow. He kept his eyes downturned afterwards. The woman had one arm resting on the arm of the throne as she leaned forward and scrutinized the man before her.

"Holtzmann" the woman barked at the large man with the bowed head. He flinched. "You know of Linza."

"Your stepdaughter, your majesty." he stammered out.

"She cannot remain in these lands." She declared. Both Holtzmann and the manservant's breath hitched though they did not move otherwise. The woman continued. "Rid them of her." She commanded, and Holtzmann gave a jerky bow, then scurried away. The manservant remained, watching the corner of a tile silently. He would wait until he was sent away, then spread the word among the others who had the same post. They would keep an eye and ear on that issue.

That evening while the woman waited for the return of a different manservant, the shadows about her dark blue skirts coalesced and Kuhn eventually thrust his indistinct dark head close to the woman's.

"There will be trouble with your instructions to the woodsman my lady." he told the woman. "You should have been more careful with your words." The woman titled her chin up.

"So long as we are rid of her, my choice of words is of little consequence." she responded. Kuhn replied, but his retort went unheard as the manservant returned panting, a bedraggled Holtzmann in tow.

"Your majesty," the manservant gasped, bowed low.

The woman flicked her fingers, motioning him away. "I can see the woodsman has returned." She turned her head fractionally, directing herself to the other bowed man. His arms quivered slightly as they clutched a small bag, the bottom of which was much darker than the sides. "Report." The woman ordered, and Holtzmann obeyed the woman who sat as straight-backed in the throne as she had earlier that day, not a hair out of place though the hours had been long.

"Linza is no longer part of this land." Holtzmann held the small bag out towards the woman, keeping himself hunched into a sort of bow while he did do. "I bring you her heart in proof." The woman pursed her lips and reached slowly out to take the bag.

"Dismissed." she told the man who left quickly. Weighing himself from one foot to the other, the manservant cast one look back at the silent woman then fled from the room as well. The woman leaned back slightly in the throne, holding the bag in her hands.

"See?" the shadows at her throne hissed, and she narrowed her eyes at them briefly before returning their gaze to the bag. Loosening the strings around the mouth of the bag, she pulled the oiled leather apart and dipped her hand in.

She went still a moment. "It does feel like a heart." she murmured, and pulled the lump from the bag. She brought it close to her nose and sniffed. "Deer heart." she proclaimed, standing up. "Killed in sacrifice. It would not do to waste it." The woman strode out of the doors the manservant had left open, leaving flecks of blood trailing after the heart she held in her hand.

By the time she reached the kitchens, blood ran down her hand nearly to the point of staining her the cuffs of her dress. She thrust the heart in front of a chef. "Prepare this for my dinner." She demanded.

No sound was made in save the crackling of the fires, as the workers stopped to watch. The pale chef grabbed the heart, and the woman wiped her hands on one of the aprons hanging as she left.

"They really think you're evil now, my lady." Kuhn greeted her when she returned to the throne room. She sniffed and threw the reddened apron into a corner.

"They already think I am a witch." She frowned. "Yet what we have been preparing to do these past years…I do not know if my plans will work. I do not even know what truly happened to Linza. Though" she sighed "no doubt she is alive." She slipped through the side door into her chambers with a rustle of her skirts. "I will think on it tomorrow."

The next day began very much the same as the previous, although Kuhn hovered over her shoulder as she finished fixing her hair. A few rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the curtains, leaving most of the room in the shadows.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" The woman sat with her hands in her lap, head tilted slightly to one side.

"Linza" the mirror replied and the woman's hands twisted "though her companions are the least fair of the land."

"Who are her companions?"

"The dwarves of Wendelin keep her now." Falling silent the mirror would say no further. The woman stood and dropped the curtains over it

"She is not so far then." she stated, pacing in front of the shrouded windows. "Far enough to make access difficult, but still in the land." Torchlight caught at the fine strands of thread that wove their way through her dress as she traveled back and forth, and glittered in the depths of her eyes. "I cannot be in two places at once. I cannot take care of her myself."

Kuhn shifted, tendrils of shadow coiling tighter. "Then let the old crone do it. She is in your debt." The woman pulled up beside the dark pillar.

"True. I will call Greh to help." She went to a desk and wrote a short message on a bit of paper. Taking it and some ribbon to the windows, she bypassed the curtains and opened one set of the glass and began to sing softly.

A few moments later, a large dark bird lit on the window ledge and made hoarse sounds at the woman. The woman gave the message to the unkempt bird.

"Greh," she told him, lowering her head to look the creature in the eye "take this to Mahr. And don't stop on the way to bother people or chat. Understood?" The bird bobbed his head. "Then be off with you." Greh croaked and winged away, leaving a few feathers behind.

Not long after, Greh landed on a wrinkled hand while another equally wrinkled hand plucked the message from him. A hunchbacked hag looked over the message she had taken and cackled. Tottering through her hut she gathered ingredients and stuffed them into a sack. She left the hut calling Greh names, and soon appeared in front of the dwarves' lodge calling them names.

To the delicate young lady who met her at the door however, Mahr showed her broken toothed smile and spouted compliments. Less than five minutes later Linza lay unconscious on the floor, the agent causing her deep sleep lodged under her tongue. Mahr returned to her hut, spitting at Greh to tell his sometimes mistress that Mahr had paid her debt.

The following morning the woman once again sat in front of the mirror and posed her question.

"You are." it replied, and the woman's lips turned up at the corners.

"Good." she whispered. She turned to the dark pillar on her right. "We must be ready; they will come at any time now."

"Yes, my lady." Kuhn agreed, as the woman went to her throne room to wait.

Far from the castle, under the eaves of the dwarves' lodge lay a young woman, long dark hair framing her face and body where she lay. The men of Wendelin lay flowers around her each night as they returned from their day's labor. That evening Amber eyes watched them from the hill above the lodge, staying until the occupants inside became as still as the young woman outside.

Once they were still the one possessing the amber eyes slipped down the hill, leading his white mount through the black woods. The small indicator he wore at his hip had for years read that the quarry was at the capitol, then shifted a few days ago to rest in the lodge's vicinity for a time before switching back to the capitol.

Amber eyes fixed on the young woman, he approached her and lay a thin strip of parchment down her face. Runes flared to life momentarily, sending off bursts of light. He collected the strip when it stopped sparking, tucked it into his vest, and mouthed a few words towards the lodge. The occupants of the lodge did not stir. He sat down beside the young woman, motionless but awake. His mount grazed nearby.

The sky was lightening to grey when he moved, half kneeling by the young woman, and lifting her shoulders up with his arm. He tapped her back dislodging the small sleeping agent from under her tongue. She coughed and her eyes fluttered open.

"We must leave." He told her as she blinked slowly at him. Her head rested on his shoulder.

"Who are you, young lord?" she queried, seeing his fine clothing and fair face, but not his glowing eyes.

"You may call me Sigivald, if you must." he replied and scooper her completely into his arms. "But now we depart." He leaped onto his mount while carrying the young woman. Kneeing the mount forward, he breathed a few words over the burden in his arms who once more fell into a deep slumber.

He continued forward undisturbed by the wild beasts of the wood, wending his way deeper and deeper into the wood. Neither he nor his mount paused, not for food, drink, or rest, until he finally pulled up next to another being who sat quietly on his own mount, late the following night. Luminescent purple eyes met amber.

"The payment has been collected?" the other figure asked.

Amber eyes flicked down to the young women gathered in front. "Yes." he signaled his mount forward again. "The bargain has been met for a time."

The other figure gave a raspy laugh and urged his own mount to follow. "I know of a witch who won't be pleased with that."

At a castle the woman waited still, asking the mirror on her wall the same question every morning. Each day it gave the same reply. Weeks passed and the woman finally dropped all the curtains in the room and fastened them tightly after hearing the mirror's words.

"Kuhn" she said "we have failed." she ran a hand over her eyes. "They have come and gone with none the wiser. If I sent Greh to the men of Wendelin, Linza would be gone." She shook her head. "I should have sent her farther away." She stared blindly out toward where Kuhn might be. "What should we do now?"

"Well my lady" Kuhn answered "you can try again in fifty years." The woman sighed. "We can stand the wait after all."

"Yes." the woman acknowledged. "But so can they. I wish they could not." She sat up straighter. "We have much to prepare, Kuhn. I will not let them have their way so easily next time."

Yet it was not fifty, but two hundred and fifty years before the woman bested them, in a different castle with another face, the shadow Kuhn by her side.


End file.
